360 Degrees of Separation
by audi katia
Summary: The best kisses are the ones you aren’t supposed to share.
1. ready

_Hello friends. I know I have not updated anything in a while, but until I do update, I thought I'd post this little fic. This is... one of the most honest things I have written in a long time. This is very personal to me, more so than most of my writing._

_This takes place after Aelita and Odd fake-kiss in Season Four. Also, it's slightly AU as I have given Odd a girlfriend._

_**Dedication**:_ **Limited Heart** _for being amazing and giving me the title for this fic. You are wonderful. :)_

_**IMPORTANT NOTE: (2-7-09) **I have edited this story to include lyrics (with titles) from various Ingrid Michaelson songs. Ingrid has been an amazing influence to this story and to my life in general. She is a amazing artist who deserves so much more attention than she has now. Do yourself a favor: if you like meaningful music with amazing lyrics and genuine emotion, listen to her songs (youtube has all of them, I think). For this story, I would suggest_ Corner of Your Heart _as I consider it to be_ the _underlying theme song._

* * *

**Just to occupy one minute of your day. Just to sleep underneath your bed. Just to stay in the corner of your heart. –Corner of Your Heart**

I have more missed calls from you, more texts from you, more conversations with you than with my boyfriend. Neither of you knows what's going on. Neither do I, really.

It's funny how I can make everything awkward in a single moment. You think I speak everything that's on my mind because my words are so scrambled. But really, you don't know how much I hold back.

Even I'm impressed with my ability to immediately find you in a colorful crowd. To find your name in a sea of John Smiths on a list. I don't have to be next to you. I don't have to see you. But I only hear your voice, and I know you're there. Such a loud voice. It carries over all the excess noise in the room.

At the end of the days, I realize that I look at too many pictures of you. (My favorite is the one of you napping with your girlfriend on a couch. Or the one from the beach when you made her a heart out of sand.) You post them on the internet, so proud and happy. It's one of my favorite ways to kill time. (Because really, it's just a waste of time for me.)

* * *

**I play the girl, will you play the guy? --Overboard**

And it doesn't make sense that we're friends because we don't like the same movies and you don't like cats. And you don't think you're handsome, but I find you charming. You cock an eyebrow and tease me a little. I tickle you, you run. Everything is cause and effect.

I never would have thought about you this way if we didn't have to pretend to kiss. If we didn't have to pretend to care and love.

But our lines are said (thrust out there in the open), and your beautiful eyes are staring into mine. And for a moment, I forget we're just pretending. I believe everything you're saying. I believe that you need me.

Your words feel cool and sweet as they blow across my face, brushing my hair away. (I'll bet your girlfriend loves that about you.) Your hands are hot, burning where they grip my skin. Your eyes are so blue. Muscles under your shirt tense and twist as my fingertips pull you closer to me. Our breath mingles, our noses touch. I see your lips with perfect clarity moments before my lashes lower.

Your lips are thin and firm. Stubble and a slip of wetness connect us tightly as our bodies meld together. The best kisses are the ones you aren't supposed to share.

Then we break apart. We avoid each other's gaze as we laugh awkwardly, sheepish looks on our faces. (The moment is over, it's time to go on.) We part in the dark, and you meet with her. I go back to an empty dorm. I call my boyfriend, but he's too busy studying to pick up. I'm really not surprised.

* * *

**And now we pass, and just like glass, I see through you, you see through me like I'm not there. --Glass**

My boyfriend is smarter than you'll ever be. Not an insult, just an observation. (I notice the strangest things.) But he studies. I don't talk to him. You hold your girlfriend's hand. She smiles. She has a beautiful smile. She says hello to me as I silently pass by. She's as polite and sweet as can be. I feel so guilty, but it's really only acting. It's nothing. It's nothing at all.

I sit at the dinner table and clearly I'm quiet and upset. Everyone thinks it's because my boyfriend forgot to call me (Again.). But really, it's because I can see your reflection in the window. You're sitting with your girlfriend and a group of friends. I try not to look, but my eyes are drawn to the scene. One by one, your friends leave until you and she are left.

Your hand is on hers. You both smile, you both laugh. Soft looks, little moments. I stare at the reflection.

* * *

**Your body broke your fall. –Porcelain Fists**

And you are just a fleeting fancy. You won't be there forever in the recesses of my mind. But you're there now and the swooping feeling in my stomach intensifies.

I don't tell anyone how I feel because I can't stand to watch them pass judgment on me. It's wrong. It's not fair to my boyfriend. It's not fair to you and your girlfriend.

So I won't say anything at all. Eventually, you will fade into the background, and this will be a funny story that we all laugh over. (And I will never have the courage to ask you if you ever felt the same.)

You'd be amazed at how much I can live with.

* * *

_Enjoy? I hope you all did enjoy this. Anyway, a second chapter is in the works. Happy Holidays, everyone._


	2. set

_Hello again. Enjoying the holidays? I just want to thank everyone so much for all the positive feedback I have received. As I mentioned before, this is very personal to me, and it thrills me to know that people appreciate my story. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

_**IMPORTANT NOTE: (2-7-09) **I have editted this story to include lyrics (with titles) from various Ingrid Michaelson songs. Ingrid has been an amazing influence to this story and to my life in general. She is a amazing artist who deserves so much more attention than she has now. Do yourself a favor: if you like meaningful music with amazing lyrics and genuine emotion, listen to her songs (youtube has all of them, I think). For this story, I would suggest_ Corner of Your Heart _as I consider it to be_ the _underlying theme song._

* * *

**Still want to hold you and kiss behind your ears. –Starting Now**

I swear you are magnetic. Everywhere I show up, you're either already there or you soon arrive. The library, the student center, the cafeteria. It's like having my own personal ghost to haunt me. You stand there with your face red and smiling from the cold. Your hair mussed up under your knit hat. Your body encased in your coat. (I want to be zipped up in your coat with you.)

* * *

**You are my December baby, you are mine. –December Baby**

I make the long walk from the cafeteria to my dorm as the snow and hail falls around me. On the way back to the comfort of my room, I imagine that you are walking alongside me. I script conversations in my head where I am witty and you are smitten by my non-existent charm. We would joke and laugh and create our own warmth in this cold December.

Despite the happy thoughts in my head, I still walk alone. People who pass me don't bother to give me a second look. (Do they ever question the small smile on my face?)

It's not until I'm back in my dorm room that I admit how scared I am of how serious this is getting. I sub-consciously think of secret places on campus where you and I can be alone together. Only with a jolt do I remember that I still have a boyfriend. (At this point, if the moment presented itself, I'd still kiss you without a second thought of my boyfriend.)

Maybe I should feel guilty. But then another day goes by when he doesn't return my calls. Once again, my attentions go back to you.

I shouldn't enjoy this as much as I do.

* * *

**I will leave this man just to occupy one minute of your day. –Corner of Your Heart**

Poor you, having a bad day. I send you a message, asking if everything is alright, and I wait forever for you to respond to me. (Really, I only waited a day, but it felt like forever.) I must have checked my inbox a hundred times. Finally, you respond telling me that you're fine now. Thanks for my concern, it means a lot to you to know that I care.

And I think I just fell for you a little more.

I spend the next few days wondering about the subtext. (Subtext will be the death of me.) I over analyze everything.

* * *

**But as strong as I seem to think I am, my distressing damsel. She comes out at night when the moon's filled up, and your eyes are bright. –Overboard**

Stop looking at me. I swear, every time I look over at you, you're looking at me. It's unnerving, and it makes me feel self-conscious. (And if I'm being honest with myself, I love it.)

Your eyes are so lovely, sometimes I can't look away. We make eye contact across the room and for an instant, neither of us looks away. You give me your signature smirk (the one that I find so sweet), and I can't help but smile back.

Honestly, it's not until the teacher begins to talk that I remember that there are other people around us. I wonder if anyone saw? More importantly, I wonder if that moment affected you as much as it has affected me.

* * *

**There's a boy next to me, and he never will be anything but a boy at the bar. –Far Away**

Have you realized that people are starting to notice? They say that there is an obvious connection between the two of us. They say that I seem to know more about you than anyone else in class. They say you joke with everyone, but you only talk to me.

I laugh it off, shrug it off, brush it off. (Inside I'm shaking. I'm not crazy. They noticed, too.) But I'm not supposed to worry, they all assure me. He's too busy being all over his girlfriend for me to spend my time worrying.

Thanks everyone. (That hurt.)

* * *

_Everyone like the chapter? I sure hope so. Next chapter, coming soon!_


	3. stop

_Hello once more. Thank you all again for the wonderful comments you have sent me. I am so happy with how well-received this has been. I hope you continue to enjoy this story._

_**Note**: This chapter is set up slightly differently. It's a little longer and less broken up because almost the entire chapter takes place within a few hours instead of over the course of weeks. Chances are, this is the only chapter that will be formated in this way. Also, I would like to explain the first section of this chapter. I know it seems like it doesn't fully fit, but I just really want to express how cold it is and how the cold affects Aelita._

**_IMPORTANT NOTE: (2-7-09) _**_I have edited this story to include lyrics (with titles) from various Ingrid Michaelson songs. Ingrid has been an amazing influence to this story and to my life in general. She is a amazing artist who deserves so much more attention than she has now. Do yourself a favor: if you like meaningful music with amazing lyrics and genuine emotion, listen to her songs (youtube has all of them, I think). For this story, I would suggest_ Corner of Your Heart _as I consider it to be_ the _underlying theme song._

* * *

**They say that things just cannot grow beneath the winter snow, or so I have been told. –Winter Song (with Sara Bareilles)**

The cold makes things smell differently.

My boyfriend would tell me it's because of diffusion. It's harder for molecules to travel in frigid air. The odors don't always reach the nose. They become lost in temperature.

But I believe some things shouldn't be defined solely by science.

* * *

**She says you're a masochist for falling for me. So roll up your sleeves. –Masochist**

I am masochistic. It's the only way to describe myself. It's the only explanation for why I continue to hurt myself like this.

If anyone asks, I'm just looking for a book in the library. But really, I'm waiting for you to exit the classroom so I can casually bump into you. (Acting like a stalker, this is probably a sign that I have lost my mind. Even I have realized this by now.)

You finally leave after what feels like an hour of waiting. I'm trailing behind you like the world's least needed spy.

* * *

**When Christmas carols fill every space, and I think of your hands upon my face. –When the Leaves**

I've been waiting for this moment to talk to you. I've planned it, gone over what I want to say so many times in my head. Everything was working flawlessly.

Expecting to have a conversation alone with you, I cheerfully walk down the stairs. Before reaching the bottom, I see you talking to your girlfriend. My steps halt for a moment as the sight registers in my brain. Then regaining sense, I continue down the stairs and walk out of the library without a second glance.

But I feel as though I'm still standing on the stairs, frozen to the spot and staring at you. In all the stories, the boy turns when the girl walks down the staircase. He sees her and everything is supposed to fall into place.

You never turned around. (This is the version of Cinderella that you never hear.)

* * *

**On Christmas evenings like this, I wonder if it's me you'll miss. –When the Leaves**

Disheartened, I walk to the cafeteria. There is comfort in food, especially in chocolate chip cookies. I'm counting on comfort as I lament the fact that I had been so expectant and had had my hopes dashed in an instant.

Today is not my day. (Then again, since when have things ever gone my way?) The cafeteria is closed. So disappointed and hungry, I return to the library.

If I were smarter, I'd have thought to get the books I needed for winter break when I was lurking in the bookcases.

And of course, you are leaving the library as I enter. The door handle is hard and cold against the palm of my hand as I debate over whether or not to follow you. But at the last moment, I shake my head and enter the library once more.

I suppose this was not meant to be. (My life is full of missed chances.)

* * *

**Hey, I'll move out of the way for you. Hey, I'll move out of the way for her, too. –Let Go**

I try, just so you know. In case you were curious, I really do try to treat your girlfriend nicely. She's still in the library after you left and I wish her a Merry Christmas with more cheer in my voice than I feel.

She doesn't return my sentiment. I don't blame her. I leave the library with silence trailing behind me.

* * *

**I want a snowfall kind of love, the kind of love that quiets the world. –Snowfall Kind of Love**

My hat keeps sliding down my forehead into my eyes. As I push it back, my hand blocks my vision for just a second.

The snowy campus is back in sight and who should I see walking to the dorms from the cafeteria? It's you. (It's funny that it's so hard to force moments to happen, but so easy for moments to arrive when you least expect them.)

I call ahead to get your attention, I try so hard to be witty. You wait for me to catch up and we walk together towards the dorms. _We are joking and laughing and creating our own warmth this cold December._

* * *

**Do you feel what I feel? Well? Do you feel this way, too? –Around You**

We stand idly outside the dorms, I'm reluctant to give up this moment. But despite my great efforts, the conversation is trailing to an end. Merry Christmas to you, Merry Christmas to you, too.

I hug you as I would hug any friend. I kiss you on the cheek as I would kiss any friend. (But I know that this kiss means more to me than a kiss to anyone else.) Your arms are loose at my waist and when you let go, I can still feel their pressure on my body. Your cheek is cold and thin next to my lips. I don't want to pull away.

But then you laugh, say you were reminded of our awkwardly fateful scene earlier in the semester. Are you nervous? I am. I deflect with a joke, my arms around you and wiggling my eyebrows. You pull away too fast and I worry that I've crossed a line.

Then we part, walk backwards to our respective dorms, still looking at each other. There are few seconds of silence that fall between us and I know that it's now or never.

I want to ask you something, I warn you that it's awkward. You remind me that we won't be seeing each other for a few weeks, so any awkwardness will dissipate by the time we return.

We're walking towards each other and you are looking at me expectantly. I wait until I am only inches away from you, staring you right in the eye. Are you at all attracted to me?

The question hangs in the air, killing my confidence. You look confused and I rapidly try to explain. A connection? Not necessarily a physical attraction? You know?

You don't understand and you apologize, but now that you have your girlfriend, you don't look at other girls that way. I truly think that is so sweet. I try to reassure you that it's fine and I understand.

I just sometimes get an awkward feeling between the two of us. And I thought, I don't know, just from stuff that happened, that maybe you liked me. (Oh, I am just so eloquent.) I guess I thought you were looking at me sometimes or something. Stuff like that. I don't know. You know what I mean? (I realize I make absolutely no sense.)

You're looking at me like I've grown two heads and you ask me to explain. I feel like a sword is hanging over me and this can't possibly get more difficult. My mouth is slightly parted, my face is blank, and all I can do is shrug.

You don't know exactly what I am trying to ask and you don't know how to answer. But you say it's because I'm a girl and girls never make sense. (Leave it to you to make a joke.)

And then your face grows so serious. Your arm jerks as though you almost wanted to touch my arm but thought better of it at the last second. Your voice is just as sincere as the expression on your face as you apologize for if you ever did anything to make me think that you might like me.

My heart hurts. It's cliché to say, but it _hurts_. I just smile with a shake of my head. I tell you that I'm not disappointed, I'm relieved. (I hate myself for lying through my teeth.) Things were just awkward. You tell me that you are an awkward person, you make things awkward.

We overuse that word. We slaughter the dictionary. I must find a thesaurus.

As I am groping around in my empty mind for something else to say, I realize you're rubbing your bright red ears. I apologize for keeping you outside for too long. (Thank you for staying outside for me.)

I walk away, saying Merry Christmas for the umpteenth time. You respond with "Merry celebration of Jesus's birth!" Because really, what else would I expect you to say?

* * *

**This is my winter song. December never felt so wrong. –Winter Song (with Sara Bareilles)**

And in the thirty seconds it takes for me to reach the door, all I can think about was the conversation replaying in my head in triple-speed. And how the whole time we spoke, I could hear people packing their cars. And how a girl from my floor walked by. And how I wasn't nearly as nervous as I thought I'd be. (For all my fantasies of how that conversation would go, I never pictured it in a public setting. It was supposed to be private, quiet, and my heart was supposed to pound out of control.) And how your eyes were a dark shade of blue and looked more serious during that conversation than I had ever seen them. And how the skies were gray, and there was no breeze at all. The coldness just seemed to stand still.

I noticed a thousand other little things, but there are just too many to name.

And I go back to my dorm to finish packing because honestly, there is nothing more I can do.

As smart as thought I was, I must lack intelligence because I willingly made things awkward. And I must be masochistic because, deep down, I knew you were going to say what you said, and I knew it was going to hurt.

* * *

_For those of you who have enjoyed this so far, I have good news. There will be a chapter four! I was originally going to end after this chapter, but I really feel as though this story hasn't ended yet. So there will be at least one more chapter before I am finished. Anyway, please review._


	4. again

* * *

_Happy February everyone! (Is it spring time yet?) There is snow everywhere and I am tired of walking to class in below zero degree weather. Just giving you a clue as to why this story takes place in the dead of winter. I have always been very affected by the weather, and right now, the icy surroundings are my muse. Anyway, thank you again for reading and for reviewing. You are also so wonderful. Thank you._

_**Dedication**:_ **Beethoven's Apprentice**_, an anonymous reviewer from last chapter. Since you were anonymous, I was unable to respond to your wonderful review. I just want to say thank you for reviewing and I sincerely hope that you feel better soon. I am glad to hear that my writing has been able to help you. I hope that it continues to help you, even if just in the slightest way. Feel better, remember that you deserve to be happy. If you need to talk, pm me or e-mail me. That goes for everyone. Pm me or e-mail me witha ny questions, comments, or concerns and I will most certainly respond._

**_IMPORTANT NOTE: (2-7-09) _**_I have edited this story to include lyrics (with titles) from various Ingrid Michaelson songs. Ingrid has been an amazing influence to this story and to my life in general. She is a amazing artist who deserves so much more attention than she has now. Do yourself a favor: if you like meaningful music with amazing lyrics and genuine emotion, listen to her songs (youtube has all of them, I think). For this story, I would suggest_ Corner of Your Heart _as I consider it to be_ the _underlying theme song._

* * *

**I am giving up on making passes and I am giving up on half empty glasses and I am giving up on greener grasses. I am giving up. –Giving Up**

Christmas is a much needed break. The first few days pass as hibernation, sleeping off the stress and disappointment.

Within days, my boyfriend and I are reconnected. He is sweet with warm eyes. His expression is purely caring, and I feel safe and wanted in his embrace. He presses his soft lips to my forehead in a chaste kiss, and I feel my heart melt. I didn't know he possessed enough warmth to accomplish that.

He just looks so adorable next to the gentle lights from the Christmas tree in the corner. All thoughts of you are pushed from my mind. (You aren't constantly in the recesses of my mind, just as I once prophesied.)

He and I watch a beautiful film and I am moved to tears. Discretely I wipe them away, but he is perceptive enough to notice. He smiles in his goofy manner and tells me I am cute. For the first time in months, I truly _feel_ cute.

I'm happy. It's such a strange concept, but I am happy with my life. I am happy with my boyfriend. I am happy with the fact that you have a girlfriend. And I'm happy that you and I will only ever be friends. (At least, I'm trying to be happy.)

* * *

**So glide away on soapy heels and promise not to promise anymore. –The Chain**

I should have known it wouldn't have lasted. The pessimist in me believes I won't ever have lasting happiness. It's only the first few days back, and my boyfriend has already not spoken to me in a week. I let myself fall into the belief that he has changed.

So I am left feeling fooled. (I should have seen this coming.) And to make matters worse, you and I are silent. Things are still too awkward. And we still kill that word with our over-emphasis.

You promised awkward feelings wouldn't last over break. I need to stop falling for promises.

* * *

**The colored lights, they brightly shine. Unlike your eyes avoiding mine. –December Baby**

You won't talk to me. (Please talk to me.) You don't say hello. You don't look my way. I was standing next to a mutual friend, you said hello to her. You couldn't turn your head a fraction of an inch to just wave at me, too?

What will it take? A foreign language? Morse Code? I'm willing to learn smoke signals if you refuse to communicate in any normal fashion.

The dramatist in me wants to scream at you and ask you why you won't talk to me.

For the first time, I'm mad at you. Before, I was mad at the situation, frustrated with myself, disappointed in my boyfriend. But not until now have I felt any anger towards you.

I try to tell myself that I'm only upset because we used to be friends and I miss our friendship. Only late at night when sleep doesn't come to me do I admit that maybe (maybe) I'm disappointed for other reasons. Maybe.

* * *

**The snow is folding sheet upon sheet. Our hands not holding as we cross the street. –December Baby**

It gets dark so early. It's only seven at night, but it feels as though it's nearing midnight. The cold is chapping my skin and biting at my ears. Beneath my sneakers, the salt crunches like gunshots. It's too cold to focus on anything except the slick sidewalk in front of me. But out of the corner of my eye, something alerts my senses.

I know that hat. I know that scarf. I know that leather jacket. (Oh no, it's you.) My heart is pounding with the anticipation of _what if_. My mind is swirling with thoughts of what to say.

The cold air and nervousness are drying my mouth as I open it silently. No words escape, I can't bring myself to get your attention. Never mind. I shut my mouth and move on. (All I want to do is talk to you.)

What if I had left my dorm sooner? What if I had walked a little faster? We might have met where the sidewalks cross. We might have spoken.

But what if I had left my dorm later? What if I had walked a little slower? Then I wouldn't have known about the chance I missed.

Several hundred feet later, I turn around to see if I can find you in the darkness of the campus. I can't. You have disappeared.

* * *

**I still believe in summer days. The seasons always change, and life with find a way. –Winter Song (with Sara Bareilles)**

Winter is the enemy. Cold steals scents, eats up sounds. (I used to see the dark beauty of winter, but not anymore.) Twigs on trees and wire fences are entirely encased in ice, cocooned in frost.

I'm sick of shivering, I'm sick of chattering teeth. I'm sick of scarves and hats and gloves. Mittens are no longer cute, snowball fights have lost their joy. Walking to class in below freezing temperatures is not my favorite pastime.

The snowfall from the other day lays thick on the ground. In the late night hours, it looks gray under the black sky. Brown on the edges of the street from dirty tires. Everything has iced over, leaving a smooth surface for the lamppost's lights to glare harshly off of. Everything looks computer animated. I can't stand to look at it.

(But maybe it's me who's become disenchanted and not the snow.)

I think I should always think of you on these harsh winter days when the bitter cold stills all life, quiets all noise, and leaves everything dead and gray. Winter is the backdrop to our story. It's the environment for my muses.

All I can do now is wait for spring to come along and finally thaw out the world. Maybe my thoughts will change with the temperature. I'm holding out for sunny days, greener grasses, leaves in trees. (And skies the color of your eyes.)

* * *

**So I walked into your eyes without a raincoat on. And in the salty sea, I find you're all but gone. –Porcelain Fists**

I've been dreading this class for weeks. The only reason I signed up was to ensure that we'd have a class together. And now I am being ignored in the most heartless of fashions and I don't want to deal with you.

(Yet that first day of class, I take care in what I wear and how I apply my make-up. I wonder if we will sit next to each other like kindergarten sweethearts.)

I should never get my hopes up. You're sitting all the way on the other side of the classroom and it's like there is an unseen ocean between us. You refuse to look at me. I want to look straight ahead and away from you, but my eyes are traitorous.

But then the teacher takes attendance and mispronounces my name like everyone else always does. Too many vowels, I suppose. You make a tiny movement and my eyes immediately lock onto your profile.

You're smiling at the mispronunciation. You're rolling your eyes and gently smiling as I correct the teacher.

And in that moment, I know that this isn't over. That this mess we've formed between us isn't finished yet and I am still falling for you.

_

* * *

_

_I hope this was another chapter that you guys were able to relate to. And good news time! Yet another two chapters are in the works. I know this seems to lack a definite end, but to me, I have yet to find an ending to this story. There is just always more to unravel. So, please review and I hope you enjoyed the additional lyrics._

_Also, a friend of mine took several amazing pictures of the snow around my campus. If anyone is interested in seeing, let me know. I can send you the attachments so you can get a better idea of what I am surrounded with._

_Oh, and I have just posted a new story. **Pretty Girls**, an Odd-centric character study. Check it out, if you should so please._

_Take care, everyone._


	5. speak

_It's finally springtime! But in this fic, it's not even Valentine's Day yet... Trust me, spring doesn't effect this story like I thought it would. The weather gets warmer, but Aelita still has issues. Anyway, no dedication this time. No note. Just enjoy the chapter. :)_

* * *

'**Cause I love the way you say good morning. –The Way I Am**

You aren't classically handsome. Or classically cute. Or classically charming. But you have such perfect timing.

Eating breakfast with a friend (She knows everything. She owns me now.), you sit down. "I Want You to Want Me" immediately starts playing as you place your tray down.

When even music is the enemy, there is a definite problem. Even worse when "You Don't Always Get What You Want" starts immediately afterwards.

The conversation is nothing significant. You'll forget it ever happened, no doubt. But I can't work right now. I'm broken. I'm stuck on thoughts of your mouth moving as you actually speak to me. As you look me in the eyes and speak to me.

The orange slice falls out of my mouth in a swooping display of how socially inept I am. My friend laughs, you just cock an eyebrow at me. You ask no questions which is fine, because I can never provide the right answer.

You drink an abnormal amount of milk (Just like I always do! I'm searching for connections), and then you leave without a second glance.

According to my friend with her oh-so-vexing eyes, she could have cut the sexual tension with a knife.

I think things are back to normal. But those songs are forever tainted to me.

* * *

**I want a snowfall kind of love that lights up the sky from below. –Snowfall Kind of Love**

The groundskeepers haven't been around to clear the sidewalks. The path in front of me has been trampled by countless footsteps, creating sheets of textured silver.

My faith in winter is being reborn. The sky looks as though ink bled from the center, thinning out to the horizons. Large and soft snowflakes descend from the sky, more glitter than fluff.

Flakes land on my face, briefly making contact before melting away and sliding down my cheeks. As I examine my breath as it billows before, you call out my name.

My wide eyes blink rapidly as my brain numbly answers your greeting. It takes all my will power not to stare into your eyes. To check to see if snowflakes stick to your long and lovely eyelashes.

* * *

**Why do I have to pretend to find ways to be around you? –Around You**

A hello in the hallway, a shared smile during class. But breakfast is when we talk. And of course, you always are the first to leave. I never am able to leave you.

My face is a neutral mask as you stand up, wrapping that infamous striped scarf around your neck. You announce that you have to leave for the theatre, you have a class there. Conversation continues at the table without you, but my thoughts on still on the empty chair you just vacated.

(If I wrote a musical, you would be the lead. You'd have your own solos and dances. And if I was brave enough, I would write a duet for you and me to sing alone on the stage.)

* * *

**Then I miss your kiss when the snow comes down. –When the Leaves**

I'm halfway across campus and even at this distance, I can spot you walking away. I continue my path to the dorms, my eyes on you the entire time. Even after your figure turns the corner and erases from my line of vision, I continue to stare at the place where I last saw you.

I'm tired of always being this far away and always seeing you leave in the opposite direction.

* * *

**I will bear three girls all with strawberry curls, Little Ella and Nelly and Faye. While I'm combing their hair, I will catch his warm stare. –Far Away**

It's breakfast, and I want to sit with you and our friends. I'm forced with a difficult decision of how to react. Do I sit in the empty seat next to you or across from you?

If I sit next to you, there's a chance our arms might brush and we'll touch for the first time in weeks. If I sit across from you, I can look at you without craning my neck and being obvious. I'm not sure if it's a lose-lose situation or a win-win situation.

I settle for sitting across from you and everything seems to be fine. We're sitting with friends (but you're only looking at me). And the conversation is flowing pretty smoothly, and there's hardly any catches in my throat as I talk to you.

Someone else picks up the conversation and you are scarfing down your bagel. You eat bagels so often. In one brief second (in a flash of overdriven imagination), I contemplate what it would be like if you and I were together. If years in the future, the mess between us magically worked out and you and I were together. I'd have to have bagels in the kitchen at all times. I don't like them, but you do.

Only this table in the cafeteria is bringing me back to reality. That flash is over and everything in the room is the same. (But I feel like I've changed.) I'm treading on the edge of terrifying thoughts.

* * *

_Sigh. We've all been there. I hope you enjoyed this. I'll try to get the next chapter posted soon, but finals are next week. So we'll see. Anyway, please review. Let me know what you think, if you have any suggestions, if you have any complaints, I want to hear them. :)_


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